"Argus drone in enroute, ETA two minutes. "
The Ops Sergeant's voice was clear enough to be heard, but quiet enough to not carry beyond the immediate listeners in this section of the room. His information was important, but so was the information being relayed by others just like him up and down the floor, and yelling every time there was something to be reported would mean no one would be able to hear anything. Absolute focus was needed to get the job done by the many technicians and ops staff that sat behind various terminals, examined geographic terrain projected on larger screens, or talked in low voices with one another about whatever it was they were seeing in either case.
Nicknamed "Fortress Zero", this Tactical Operations Center was the beating heart of Atlesian Special Forces, the nerve center from which at dozen missions could be controlled from at any given time. Everyone who had business inside appreciated the weight of responsibility such a place entailed, accentuated by the dimmed lighting that encouraged at atmosphere of cold-blooded calculations. It may not have been the tip of the spear, but it was the guiding hand that directed where said spear was plunged.
"Visual in ETA one minute."
But while all the operations coordinated from here were important, there was one that had held primary attention for the senior officers today, and appropriately had been allocated the largest display in the center of the TOC. Major Bradley Shiraz split his attention between the countdown timer in the left-hand corner, and the squad vitals monitor that was taking up the good portion of the entire right-hand side. Everything there showed in the green, but he still felt a spike of uncertainty whenever he looked at it. It was the first time he had ever seen such a readout during an ongoing mission, as the suggestion of using active sensors meant for tracking the health of individual troops had been discarded as too expensive and problematic for practical use, and as such no huntsmen or soldiers had ever used any outside of testing. But of course, the team that had been deployed on this operation was not Huntsmen Specialists, nor were they conventional commandos. They were…. something else, and that's what really made Shiraz uneasy.
"Argus is on station."
"Bring it up to the main screen." The order was probably unnecessary, but the Major had long since made a habit of making his wishes clearly known so there was no room for misunderstanding.
The countdown disappeared from the display, as two new windows opened to join the vitality readout in taking over the rest of the available space. The first was a geographical map of the operation's area, showing the flat and snowy flatlands that were only interrupted by a small and largely frozen river that was carrying water from the mountain range about a hundred kilometers to the northeast. The second was a video feed from the high altitude Argus Surveillance drone that was capable of both thermal and standard views, a bit grainy at times but that was the tradeoff for both the safety of the equipment from enemy action and the assurance that the targets had no idea what was hovering above them. It gave a live view of terrain that the map outlined, including the handful of grimm that were stalking around the snowy grounds and a rundown building near the riverbed.
"I have no visual on the ground team." The tech reported.
"I would be surprised if you did." Shiraz tapped the headset in his ear. "Control to Crimson Actual, we have eyes in the sky. Mark your position."
The feed switched to its thermal view, forming blobs of white light around the grimm and into several recognizable human shapes in and around the structure. A kilometer south of that, four IR strobes flicked to life, positioned near some of the only growth of vegetation in the area that could provide visual cover.
"Confirmed, we see you."
"They were able to get that close without alerting either the guards or any of the grimm. Not bad." A low voice said from behind. "They're even closer to the target than I assumed they would be."
The Major had to bite back the automatic response that this was the bare minimum to be expected of Atlas's best, settling for just glancing behind him at the speaker and giving a noncommittal nod. It was hard enough to work with your boss looming over your shoulder, harder still when you and he were in disagreement about the very foundation of said work.
General Maximilian Dogwood seemed to tower over Fortress Zero, both physically and metaphorically, as his presence and reputation alone stiffened backs and invigorate spirits to their duty. When it came to the acting leader of Atlesian Special Operations Command, Shiraz couldn't have asked for better. But that didn't mean that he and his superior always saw eye to eye, especially when it came to this…new project.
He turned back to the display, forcing himself to focus. Who was right and who was wrong was likely about to be settled shortly, and he couldn't let himself be distracted and potentially make a mistake that could cost lives.
Four days ago, an Atlesian Military Officer had been kidnapped from her home in Mantle. Lieutenant Maron Fairbright was a graduate of the Atlas Huntsman Academy and was a Platoon Commander in the 53rd Mechanized Brigade that was responsible for garrisoning her hometown. Unmarried and living alone, one of her Sergeants had become worried when she had failed to report to morning formation and didn't answer and didn't respond to any attempts at communication, leading him and a couple others to go check on their Lieutenant. When they arrived at her home, they discovered Fairbright was missing, and they had found signs of struggle that had wrecked a lot of the furniture and had caused a lot of blood that the trained Huntress had almost certainly drawn from those who had taken her. It was a mystery that had left both the military and civilian investigators stumped, as there didn't seem to be any clear motive or suspects for who could have done it. That was, until one of the crypto-linguists had cracked an outgoing message from the CCT to an unknown recipient where the writer had mentioned "bagging the faunus".
The detail that Fairbright was a faunus had been practically overlooked as an insignificant detail, since it had been obvious that it had been a decent number of attackers who had carried out the kidnapping, not something that could have been done by a random bigot on a whim. The only group that immediately came to mind was the White Fang, but they had thus far avoided attacking any faunus military officers to avoid alienating the many fence sitters that existed across Mantle and other cities on the ground level of Atlesian territory, and someone would have almost certainly noticed movement and changes from the group if they were undergoing such a radicalization like what was happening in their Vale cells. If the fact that she was a faunus had been a primary motivator, that left them with the unappealing realization that another extremist group may have formed right under their noses.
With the kidnapping then being classified as a terroristic action, Special Operations Command was authorized to surveil, follow, and quietly grab the man who had sent the original message to answer a few "questions". Background checks on him had shown him to be a airship dock worker who had only a couple of misdemeanor law violations in his past, nothing that would have suggested extremist tendencies. But he had sung like a bird once they had started applying pressure, admitting that he had helped plan and supply the group that had taken Lieutenant Fairbright, even acting as a lookout to signal them when no one on the street would be around and thus the ideal time to make the grab. He hadn't known exactly where they had taken her, but it was outside of the grimm free territories of Mantle and the surrounding regions. That had narrowed down the search area considerably, and using the other clues their prisoner had given them, military intelligence had been able to nail down a where Fairbright was with a reasonable degree of certainty.
That had brought them too today, to an abandoned collection plant that had been built several decades ago in hopes of gathering Dust, gold, and other raw materials that flowed from the mountains down the river. The investors never got a single lien in return for their substantial financing, as the entire business was simply given up with the plant forsaken within a year of being built. The records weren't clear if it had failed because it hadn't been profitable enough or because the location was just too dangerous even with a good number of armed workers. That latter problem had not changed in recent years, sitting firmly within what the Government of Atlas considered to be little more than wildlands where army patrols were few and far between. People made a go at trying to live in such places all the time of course, often because of fiercely independent streaks that led them to conclude that it was better to risk daily grimm attacks than live under any government oversight. These settlements most always failed, the only success stories usually being from those who had huntsmen living among them, had enough money to hire freelance huntsmen, or had their own private army in the rare cases like those of the mercenary commander Katrina Sable.
The kidnappers seemed to be doing alright for themselves though, probably were keeping a low enough profile and making little enough noise to not attract any nearby grimm while keeping a lookout for the rare time that an Atlesian Army patrol did happen to come by them. But those days of relative comfort and safety were about to come to an end.
At least, that was the hope. Shiraz had planned for an assault force consisting of two huntsmen and two squads of troopers, all of them drawn from Special Forces and would have been more than enough to deal with whatever the enemy threw at them. Instead, General Dogwood had overruled him, and placed his faith in a four-member team that had not yet proven themselves in the field. The General had reasoned that this force could move faster and be stealthier than the force Shiraz had envisioned and didn't seem at all concerned that the low number could be in danger of being overwhelmed if the makeshift base had more personnel within it than they anticipated. The benefits he touted would not have been entirely unreasonable with a normal unit of, say, Huntsman Specialists.
But that's not what Crimson Team was. They were the first and only kind of their unit in the entire world, for good reason in the Major's eyes.
In the small glow of the IR strobes, he could just make out the outlines of their heavy power armor.
"Crimson Team, the mission is a go. I repeat, mission is a go."
….
"Acknowledged Control." Crimson One answered, speaking for the first time since his team got into position. "Interrogative, has there been any changes to the rules of engagement?"
"Negative, Crimson. Everyone inside is considered hostile except the HVI. Don't level the building and don't shoot wildly, but otherwise your free to engage any and all hostiles at your discretion."
"Confirmed. We're on the move." He switched his helmet's radio frequency to the private link with his team. "Move up five hundred meters to that snowbank, it should give us enough cover to get a closer look at the defenses. Stay low, and don't engage unless I say."
"Three, acknowledged."
"Four, acknowledged."
A green light flickered in the corner of his heads-up display to indicate Crimson Two acknowledged.
As one, the four figures rose from their prone positions and began making their way with deliberate speed towards the indicated spot, not too fast or too slow. The only sound's they made was the crunching of the snow beneath their boots, the Phalanx Power Armor that covered their bodies from head to toe had impressive hydraulics within them that could be activated to offset the substantial weight while out in the field and thus give them options when needing a silent approach. When they were at fifteen meters from the snowbank, they dropped back onto their stomachs and crawled the rest of the way to avoid detection. The inhabitants of the plant probably weren't expecting this kind of infiltration and surprise attack, but it was better to be overly cautious at this point instead of being spotted by the lookouts because they got sloppy.
Slowly, Crimson One released the sniper rifle that had been magnetically locked to his back and pushed the barrel over the top of the snow to get a look through the scope. There was three people visible from his location, two men on the roof and a woman at a side entrance door. All were human and visibly armed with older model assault rifles. It was always tricky to tell from a distance the strength of one's aura, the largely invisible shield that came from the souls all humans and faunus alike. All such beings except for the members of Crimson Team, their auras stripped away long ago. But while nearly everyone had it, not all auras were created equal. Most were just strong enough to present bruising in the case of a minor injury, but with enough time and training, one could turn their aura into a truly formidable barrier. Huntsmen and Huntresses relied upon it heavily for use in their fighting styles, making them strong enough that no single bullet would be able to penetrate through unless it was of a high caliber or another kind of special round.
It didn't look that that would be an issue here, as it was fairly obvious that none of the guards had received any kind of instruction close to that level. Their only danger would be in numbers and organization if given such a chance to use them.
"Crimson Actual, Control." His long-range radio came to life again. "Drone footage marks seven around the perimeter. Three on the roof, the rest at various entry points around the building."
That wasn't unexpected, the jagged and slapdash nature of the plant's architecture meant that there was always to going to be a blind spot that could hide several people around any corner.
"Control, do you have eyes on anything inside the plant?"
"Negative, not with the Argus. Altitude is too high to pick up any heat signatures within."
"Control, Crimson Three." His Squad mate added her voice to the conversation. "Is it possible to tag enemy positions on the drone and feed the data to our HUDs?"
A pause.
"Standby, Crimson."
It was good thinking; the team had done something similar during their time in training once using an unseen scout who had an elevated view of the battlefield and electronic "smart" binoculars. They had never worked directly with drone support before, but whatever the eyes in the sky could be even more valuable if what it was seeing could be linked up to the armor's systems. The team waited in silence as the techs worked out how to make it work, watching one of the guards on the roof yawn dramatically and roll his shoulders.
"Crimson, we've established the uplink. Data should be coming up on your helmet's now."
As promised, small red triangles began to form above the heads of the armed hostiles, including the ones that were outside of his direct view. They had the building fairly well covered, with no obvious entry point the team could make without attracting attention. They could always just take out any guards with their suppressed weapons, but taking out more than one person without knowing if there was a timed patrol pattern was risky, it easily could tip off the inhabitants that something was wrong when several people stopped checking in or couldn't be found all at once. If they caught on to Crimson Team's presence, they might opt to just kill the Lieutenant rather than risk having her be rescued.
He shifted on his side, moving his sniper rifle to observe the nearby grimm he had made note of when they had first arrived. It was a small pack of Beowolves, passive at the moment as they stalked and sniffed around in the snow. They weren't much of a threat on their own, but there were enough of them to attract a good amount of attention if they could be riled up.
"Three and Four, I want you to move around the perimeter on the west side, see if you can lure those Beowolves towards the main entrance to the plant."
"Shouldn't be a problem." Crimson Four answered. "But if we start a fight with them, it could end up attracting more nearby grimm."
"I don't think that will be a problem, but we need a way to grab most of the guards' attention while Two and I make entry through this side door. Odds are the HVI is being held somewhere in the old working crew quarters area, and this is the quickest way to reach it."
"Understood. On me, Four. Let's go poke the local wildlife." Crimson Three slide down the snowbank with her partner in tow, skulking off to do as ordered while avoiding line of sight with any of the rooftop hostiles.
Crimson One kept his focus on the plant, trusting his teammates to carry out their part of the plan while he maintained an overwatch. He wanted to study if there was any variation in the guard patterns or be able to take out any guards that he needed to in the unlikely event one of them noticed the grimm and was able to give an early warning. There was a bit of movement, mostly by those on the rooftop who seemed to walk around without any sort of set schedule or sequence. The only moment of note was when the woman manning the door was swapped out for a younger man who was wearing a patch over his left eye, the pair exchanging a few pleasantries before the woman went back inside.
"Crimson One, Crimson Three. We're casting out the lure now." The report came into his ear. Grimm lures were standard equipment for militaries across Remnant, though they could vary in their exact style between different Kingdoms and even different units. They were valuable for taking out small pockets of the monsters by bringing them into specified kill zones or just moving them away from a location for a short period of time. "They're taking the bait, moving towards the building."
The Squad Leader waited, keeping a close eye on the hostiles to make sure they didn't suspect anything just yet.
Closer…closer…
The sound of Beowolf's roar shattered the quiet, indicating the pack had gotten close enough to the plant to see and smell the humans around it, calling the rest to the attack. The guards, caught completely flatfooted by the fact that the grimm that just moments ago had been both passive and a safe distance away were now charging at them, began to panic. Both shouting and gunfire erupted from across the perimeter, the two men who had been on lookout over the desired entrance immediately turned and began to make their way to the other side of the roof to help. The young man with the eyepatch seemed like he too was about to join in the action, but glanced back at the door he was supposed to be guarding, obviously feeling an internal conflict without clear instruction on how to respond.
Crimson One didn't give him a chance settle the question, firing a single and quiet shot from his sniper rifle, dropping him like a sack to the ground below. Not wanting to waste a single second the distraction had bought them, One and Two stood and sprinted the half kilometer distance as One swapped back to his standard assault rifle. They took up positions on either side of the door, Crimson Two gesturing with her hand what she believed was the best route they could take once inside.
"Agreed. Quick and quiet." Crimson One nodded. "You've got point. All Callsigns, Crimson One and Two are making entry now. Three and Four, keep an overwatch on the situation outside. When I give the signal, you'll be free to engage the remaining hostiles."
"Wilco."
One hand on the door handle and the other on her submachine gun, Crimson Two pushed into the building, sweeping her weapon left and right before giving the "clear" signal via the HUD. Crimson One followed behind her, dragging the body of the dead guard in with him and kicking snow over the blood to cover their presence. Putting his fallen target in the corner least likely to draw the eye, he moved behind his partner as they pushed forward into the plant.
According to the old records that intelligence had managed to dig up, the building had been separated into two distinct sections when it had been built, a processing area where Dust and other minerals could be sorted and appraised, and a living area where the crew were expected to eat and sleep during their expected months long tenure. The new squatters had almost certainly made some modifications to the place, but it was expected that the basic layout would remain largely the same.
They cut down one of the hallways that lead towards the heart of the living quarters, bypassing an old boiler room that looked like it hadn't been functional for at least twenty years, coming to a T-junction that would take them to the processing center if they turned left. Crimson Two held up a balled fist to signal a halt before they reached the opening, and One pressed his shoulder to hug the wall and wait for her to give the all clear signal. Just beyond, he could hear the scrambling of feet racing towards the front entrance.
"What the hell happened?! I thought they said grimm were too far away to bother us!" Someone shouted.
"I bet one of those idiots outside just panicked and started shooting, attracted the whole damn pack!"
"If we don't take care of them fast, then it'll bring half the region down on us!"
The voices and footsteps got more distant until they seemed to join the racket of gunfire happening outside. Crimson Two waited a few more heartbeats, then motioned to keep moving as she started forward again. The living quarters were, unsurprisingly, quite barren. There were sections of four bunkrooms that could each sleep four people that were then connected to space that was half kitchen and half recreation. At full capacity, it could have sheltered around fifty people or so, though that didn't seem to be the case at the moment. The quarters lacked many of the comforts one could find even in the more rural parts of Atlas, but that was likely due to the limited electrical availability that was probably allocated to more important elements like heating.
They searched room by room, making quick sweeps for Lieutenant Fairbright or any useful pieces of intelligence before moving onto the next. There was no signs of their missing Huntress, and only a few personal items held within the bunkrooms that the pair recorded with the cameras built in to their helmets, not much to go on by themselves.
With the rest of the areas cleared, they moved to the final section of the living quarters and prepared to start their search, when one of the bunkroom doors suddenly opened and the original woman that they had seen guarding the side door stepped into few, her arms full of ammo and other supplies.
"So goddamn eager to fight that no one bothered to go and get any extra a- huh?!" She startled upon seeing the two armored figures standing before her.
Before she could make any moves, Crimson Two fired off a burst from her submachine gun, the rounds catching her straight in the torso and sending her staggering back against the nearby wall. She dropped everything that had been in her hands, going limp as she slid down and left a smear of blood behind her.
"Teal? Are you alright?" A voice called from the bunkroom on the opposite side of the section. "Did you trip or something."
The two infiltrators quickly hid as the sound of an unlocking and opening door preceded a figure stepping out. It was a balding man who was wearing a leather smock that was coated with some kind of liquid while something resembling a raggedly lab coat and gloves covered the rest of his body. His slightly wrinkled face was further marred by a frown as he noticed the streak on the wall but couldn't see the body of his comrade behind the ratty lounge style couch.
He hurried over to investigate further, putting him squarely in Crimson One's line of fire. The Squad Leader fired three quick shots, two the chest and one to the head, on the move to the door the man had just come from before he had even hit the floor. Listening carefully to make sure no one else was inside and trusting Two in covering his flank, he moved inside and swept it with his rifle. This bunkroom had been significantly altered from its original purpose, all the beds having been removed and replaced with metal tables and medical equipment. It looked like it had been turned into a makeshift infirmary, but that had made it an ideal setup for another task.
In the middle of the room, restrained tightly to a chair, was Lieutenant Maron Fairbright. Her eyes were closed, much of her exposed skin was bruised, and even one of her panther ears seemed to have been partially cut off. She was still wearing the pajama's that she'd donned the night of the kidnapping, though much of the shirt was now soaked with blood. Crimson Two moved in and touched the side of her neck, looking back at her team leader and giving a shake of her head.
Damn. They were too late. Crimson Four would know best as the Team's medic, but it looked like she had been dead a couple of hours, likely due to execution.
"Control, HVI is dead." Crimson One reported over the radio. "Clear signs of torture."
"Understood, Crimson." The Major's tone was professional, but with the undercurrent of sad resignation. "Gather what intelligence you can and retrieve the body. We don't leave our own behind. Exfil is enroute."
"Solid copy, Crimson out."
Two had already begun the process of removing the restraints, her hands moving with the gentle respectfulness as deserving for a fallen comrade. While she did so, One turned to investigating the rest of the room. The instruments on the tables had obviously been used in the torture and likely interrogation, the kind of tools that could have been used for more primitive surgeries if the hands that held them were more benign. There was also a cocktail of different kinds of drugs, many of which Crimson One couldn't recognize. But one item in the room stood out from all the others, a video camera pointed in the direction of the Lieutenant. It wasn't a cheap model either, something that looked absolutely top of the line and thus out of place for a group that had been seemingly operating on a shoestring budget. It had probably recorded everything that had happened, and no one had the opportunity to delete the data because they didn't know Crimson Team was even inside. He removed the memory card and secured it in his armor before smashing the camera beyond repair.
"Crimson Team be advised: Drone has picked up more grimm headed your way from the west. Looks like more Beowolves and some Sabyrs, ETA six minutes."
"Roger that, we're beginning extraction." Crimson One picked up Lieutenant Fairbright's body as moved back in the point position again. "Three and Four, weapons free. Take out as many hostiles as you can before we reach you."
"With pleasure." Four responded, clearly having been eagerly waiting for just such an order. They could have just left as quietly as they arrived, but Command didn't want this this base to be functional any longer, and the people here would probably be long gone before the Army or the Air Force delegated resources to reducing it to rubble. Better to deal with as many as they could while they had them in their scopes, especially while distracted fighting the grimm.
One and Two headed back the way they had come in, expecting the path to be clear as it had been before with the battle outside only heating up. But they had assumed incorrectly, forced to come to a halt as figure who seemed to be dressed halfway as a soldier and halfway as a knight of old stood in their way along the hall to the exit.
"I knew a sudden grimm attack was too coincidental." He sneered with a self-congratulatory look. "So Atlas decided it was worth all this effort to retrieve one of their feral mongrels. What the hell are you even supposed to be? Some kind of new combat bot?"
Neither of them answered, One taking a step back and letting Two handle this.
"Guess it doesn't matter." The man reached behind his back and revealed a wheel-like device that had four knifes spinning around it. "I'll strip you both down for parts and sell-"
Two opened up with her weapon, spraying SMG rounds from his head to toe and closing the distance between them in two rapid steps. Startled by his opponent's speed and ferocity, the man practically fell backwards trying to deflect the bullets with his own weapon, catching several in his aura before he even realized what was happening. He spun the wheel with his free hand, making the knives blur together visually as he tied to counterattack against his now much closer opponent. He'd evidently had some huntsman training, though undoubtably wasn't a graduate of any Academy based on the sloppy form.
Crimson Two ducked underneath the attack, striking upwards and slamming her gauntlet against the man's wrist. The bones audibly snapped under the pressure, making the man drop his weapon and open his mouth to cry out in pain. Two grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the nearby wall, forcing the air from his lungs and robbing him of any chance of making further noise. Her right hand tightened itself into a fist, and a wickedly long blade shot out from the wrist slot on Two's armor and went stabbing into the man's neck. He jerked and went rigid, only falling once the blade was withdrawn back.
The whole skirmish hadn't even lasted ten seconds, but already Crimson two was rifling through the man's pockets for anything valuable. He may not have been much, but his abilities were still leagues above the others they had seen here so far, possibly even being the head of this whole operation. She held up a scroll that she'd plucked from his inside jacket, still in one piece and with power.
"Take it." Crimson One confirmed. "Combined with the visual data, we might be able to match his identity if he ever attended a formal school in Atlas."
She nodded in agreement, stowing the device and proceeding to make sure the way was clear as they emerged back outside. Now they could definitely hear the sounds of battle, roaring of grimm, screams of pain, and even explosions that were probably Crimson Three's handiwork.
"Skyranger to Ground Team, I'm coming up to the Landing Zone now. ETA One minute." A new voice said over the radio.
"Understood, Skyranger. We'll be there soon." He switched back to his squad frequency. "Three and Four, make your way to the primary LZ. We'll meet you there."
"Solid copy, we're disengaging." Three answered. "Be advised, those grimm are faster than anticipated, they'll probably be on you before you make it."
"We'll deal with them, just get moving."
Grimm were largely predictable beasts that usually weren't too difficult to deal with, but having a large number of them hot on Crimson's heels was less than ideal.
"Two, swap with me." He ordered, tossing her his assault rifle while she in turn gave him the SMG. He was capable firing the rifle one handed while carrying the Lieutenant, but he would have better accuracy if he was using the lighter weapon.
That accuracy became needed as the aforementioned grimm started to overtake them just as they caught sight of the Vulture Dropship ahead of them. The members of Crimson Team had incredible speed, but these Beowolves had four legs to propel them and a monstrous killing desire to drive them. Crimson Two dropped back behind him, laying down a steady stream of fire that was meant to slow down as well as kill. One joined the battle anytime a grimm got too close, giving them a spray of SMG rounds to the face for their trouble. The creatures were dropping, but there were still a few that were insistent on being annoying.
As they drew closer to the dropship, Crimson Three and Four added their covering fire to their approaching allies, kneeling on either side of the drop ramp. Having a clearer range of fire and steadier shooting stance, the pair helped pick off the remaining Beowolves with little ease.
"There's plenty more where they came from, we have to go!" Four announced, standing up and hurrying into the dropship. "Tom, extracting."
"Amber, extracting." Three reported, following right behind him.
Two was next, finally relenting after the squad leader motioned her to go ahead of him. The HUD indicator flashed to signal that Lucy was extracting.
Finally, Crimson One finished ascending the ramp in three steps.
"Cole, extracting." He reported. "We'll all aboard, Skyranger."
"Roger that, we're out of here." The Vulture's engines gunned to life, lifting the vessel off the ground as the drop ramp closed behind them.
As they departed the operation zone, Cole gently laid Lieutenant Fairbright down so Tom could do a preliminary examination.
"What do you think, Four?" He prompted.
"Hard to say for sure, but based on the wounds I can see, she didn't die of the torture." The medic answered, turning her head back and forth. "They were subjecting her to just enough agony to see that she didn't die. A classic technique for combining torture with interrogation."
"Can you tell what killed her?"
"Stab wound, center of the chest." He pointed. "I can't make any definitive conclusions without a definitive examination, but it looks like it from a butcher's knife."
"Butcher's knife…" Amber shook her head from where she was seated. "I should have brought more explosives. Could have made absolutely sure none of them got away."
"How many do you estimate are left?" Cole asked.
"No more than a handful."
"And many of those aren't getting away either." Tom added. "I shot many of them in the legs. I'm sure right now they're dealing with the grimms' tender mercies."
"You purposefully just disabled their movement?" Cole frowned under his helmet. "That's not very efficient."
Tom shrugged.
"I don't think the Lieutenant would agree with you, given all they did to her."
No one had a response to that, and Cole elected to just take his seat and let the medic continue his examination, distantly wondering in the back of his mind how command would interpret this mission. On paper there was nothing they had done wrong, Fairbright probably having been dead even before they had started their deployment. Everything else had gone more or less as intended.
Still, there would most likely be some who wouldn't see it that way, people who wanted to see the only four successfully made Centurions to be relegated to the pile of failed experiments. But there was nothing he or his team could do about that. They were soldiers, and they would carry out their duty to Atlas as had always been intended, and protect a world that seemed to only becoming more confusing with each passing day.
(A/N: This is my first attempt to dip my toes in the pool of making my own RWBY-verse with new characters, overhauled worldbuilding, and generally keep the Soul of RWBY while doing some things differently. While there will be more of a military-flavor in some aspects, there will still be classic Huntsman/Huntress adventures and fighting. Fair warning, there will also be OC x Canon characters later down the line and no strict adherence to the "Color Name" rule. Other than that, I hope we can all have fun diving down this rabbit hole that will absolutely sap away my sanity as time goes on!)
(Also, my first attempt posting this was screwed up in every way possible. I think that's a good omen)